


a belated gift

by nitorisource



Category: Free!
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Food Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 11:08:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2307440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitorisource/pseuds/nitorisource
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke really was just a little butt hurt that his boyfriend failed to remember his birthday, but the next day, once he has Makoto blushing and stripped bare on his bed, he figures that maybe it was a good thing Makoto forgot. After all, now he has a delicious cake just for the two of them to enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a belated gift

**Author's Note:**

> anon sent an ask about Makoto forgetting Sousuke's birthday and trying to make it up to him, so this happened. not like i actually forgot sousuke's bday as well... orz for yamazakiday. shameless porn again

“S-Sousuke?”

Makoto fingers tighten involuntarily in the mess of damp, black hair and he swallows down a moan.

“I s-said I was sorry for--” A sudden, short groan makes him falter “--for forgetting your b-birthday.”

“I know,” Sousuke purrs, again running his tongue over the frosting still covering Makoto’s perked up, pink and red nipple, “and I said you’re forgiven.” His other hand goes up to twist and pull at the writhing brunet’s other nub, his fingers still sticky and sweet.

“Th-then why are--” He’s cut off once more by the moan that pours unwillingly from his throat when Sousuke catches his nipple lightly between his teeth and tugs up, and his back arches off the mattress as the strange mix of pleasure and pain sparks through the rest of his body.

“I asked you if you wanted to eat the cake with me. You’re the one who brought it, remember?” Sousuke says gently as the brunet tries to get his raspy, shallow breathing under control. There’s still a lot of the desert spread over Makoto’s exposed body, and even if Sousuke doesn’t particularly love sweets, he does love the sensation of running his tongue through the mess and feeling for every dip and curve of Makoto’s muscles.

Already, there’s a hazy, faraway, erotic look to those moist green eyes, an expression that Sousuke should, by now, be accustomed to but he can’t help be knocked breathless each time he sees the way Makoto’s normally friendly, unassuming face can fill with so much lust.

“I didn’t think - Sou--! Sou - nng!” His back lifts again from the sheets as Sousuke reaches below the waistband of the brunet’s boxers to wrap a loose fist around his hard-on, and Makoto squeezes his eyes shut as he continues to attempt to cry out for his smug, dark-haired boyfriend.

_God_ , he _likes_ that, the way his name tumbles brokenly and breathlessly from Makoto’s lips, how he writhes in so much ecstasy he’s unable to form such a simple, familiar word. Earlier, he’d been too busy smearing cake over Makoto’s broad, tight muscled chest to get himself undressed and now he can feel his cock stirring urgently against the confines of his pants each time another desperate noise leaves Makoto’s open, panting mouth.

When the hand around his cock leaves, Makoto can’t help but whine out in frustration, but Sousuke merely pulls the half-demolished cake closer to him on the bed and points for Makoto to kneel down on the carpeted floor.

With two fingers, Sousuke reaches down to scoop up more cake from what remains on the messy platter and he uses his other hand to gently grab Makoto’s face by his chin and open his mouth. He holds his frosting topped fingers teasingly in front of Makoto’s waiting mouth, whose tongue reaches out hesitantly for a taste, before Sousuke shoves his fingers inside and starts to work them down the gagging brunet’s throat.

Makoto’s tongue swirls and works to swallow the cake so that he doesn’t choke and Sousuke smiles in satisfaction at the way the muscle wetly massages and moves around his two fingers, licking over the tips and spreading them apart to get the space in between. His free hand goes up to rub affectionately under Makoto’s jaw as stifled choking noises occasionally leaves his throat and he makes sure to tilt the brunet’s head up to tell him to keep those watery green eyes focused up on his.

Once he gets used to having the fingers in his mouth, no longer gagging on the intrusion, Sousuke pushes down on Makoto’s lower jaw to take a look inside his mouth. There’s still just a few cake crumbs and traces of frosting left so he murmurs, “Clean it all up, Makoto,” and again his dick twitches at the feeling of Makoto obligingly closing his lips to suck and lick and swallow around the fingers, even moving his head back and forth, so Sousuke matches the thrusting of his fingers to the brunet’s movements and tries to reach as far down his throat as he can.

When Sousuke tries to pull his hand away, Makoto’s mouth tries to follow, and at the soft wet pop of his fingers leaving, he looks a little disappointed, turning his crestfallen eyes to the floor between Sousuke’s spread legs.

“You know, you’re really cute,” Sousuke says in a tender voice, enough to get Makoto’s attention again.

“That’s not the kind of thing I want to - nng?” Makoto’s brows furrow when Sousuke reaches forward to smear another thick layer of smashed cake over his bottom lip, this time licking the leftovers from his fingers himself as the brunet looks up at him with a hint of apprehension in his eyes. Sousuke leans back on his arms and spreads his legs a little wider for the person kneeling before him and Makoto automatically reaches forward with his hands, only for Sousuke to shake his head.

“Use your mouth,” he says with a tone that drips ‘It’s my special day, remember?’

Fuck.

Makoto hates the way he fumbles so long with the button to Sousuke’s jeans that he has to help him undo it himself, but he moves on to the zipper, catching it between his teeth and smearing some cake on the denim fabric over Sousuke’s crotch as he pulls it down over his prominent bulge. He has to nudge the open flaps out of the way with his cheeks and he can’t help but breathe in the sweaty, musky scent coming from the stained area of Sousuke’s boxers, mouthing over his arousal as the taste of cake again mingles with his senses.

Sousuke groans at the stimulation and tilts Makoto’s head back just enough so that he raise his hips from the bed and tug his pants and boxers down to his ankles, which Makoto readily helps him to remove so that he can toss them some ways towards the wall. He hesitantly runs his fingers around the base of Sousuke’s cock, and at his muffled moan of approval, Makoto finally leans forward and skips the formalities so that he can simply swallow down Sousuke’s thick cock as far as it will go.

His jaws and mouth has to stretch to accommodate his boyfriend’s girth, but Makoto quickly establishes a slow, taunting rhythm as he bobs his head up and down and strokes whatever part of Sousuke’s shaft he can’t quite swallow. With his free hand, he holds open Sousuke’s quivering thighs, his fingers digging into the skin each time Sousuke’s hips buck up to meet his lowering mouth.

He’s still in the middle of swallowing down half of Sousuke’s cock when he feels himself pushed away suddenly, and he hears Sousuke breathlessly demand, “Get on the bed,” as large, strong hands help to move him where he wants. As soon as Makoto is laying on his back against the sheets, he feels Sousuke’s mouth eagerly nipping against the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, quickly making his way towards his crotch.

“Sousuke, no! N-no, don’t!” Although he’s disoriented by the stimulation for a few moments, he manages to smack his palm against Sousuke’s forehead to prevent his mouth from coming any closer to his hole.

“Why not?”

“Because, it’s… it’s _your_ birthday, and I don’t want you to - it’s not fair that you’re always the one--”

“But it’s something that _I want_ to do,” he answers adamantly. “Besides, you already cleaned and prepared yourself here before coming over, right?” He smirks at the way Makoto tries to open his mouth to deny the charges but can only turn a deeper shade of embarrassed red, all the way down his neck, and he simply makes a sound of concession as he tries to hide his face.

At Makoto’s silent relent, Sousuke places both of his hands on either side of Makoto’s waist so that he can pull him nearer to the edge of the bed, eliciting a gasp of surprise, before he grabs Makoto’s legs and positions them on top of the bed. “Hold your ankles for me,” he says, peering over the splendid view he has of Makoto’s hole and erect dick, and when Makoto makes the mistake of glancing down that same path he can only groan out in even more embarrassment, but he does as he’s told and keeps his legs spread as far as they’ll go for Sousuke.

“W-wait, Sousuke, enough with that!” He cringes at the feeling of something that isn’t just cold lube being spread over and around his hole, and he doesn’t have to look this time to imagine the way Sousuke exaggeratedly slurps and sucks at his frosting covered finger.

“What? We need to finish the cake,” he says back, splaying one hand against Makoto’s thigh as he leans in and uses two fingers to spread open Makoto’s hole.

Before he can can get out any more words of protest, an involuntary gasp of pleasure escapes his mouth at the feeling of Sousuke’s hot tongue probing over his cake and lube covered area, dabbing teasingly around the edges for now. Makoto’s fingers clutch desperately into the sheets when he feels Sousuke lick over his hole and up so that he can flick his tongue over the shallow on his balls before going back down.

He has to fight the urge to reach down and stroke himself, but his cock is dripping at the neglect. As good as it feels to have Sousuke’s tongue probing and licking him down there, the heat that unsatisfyingly builds up in his guts demands more stimulation, but he doesn’t have to wait too long for that.

“Sousuke, _fuck_ ,” he breathes out when he feels a finger slip into him, all the way down to the knuckle, with zero resistance. Like Sousuke had teased earlier, Makoto was more than ready to have something, anything, inside him already, and his entire body shudders when Sousuke skips to easing three fingers inside of him, thrusting inside slowly, hooking his fingers upward in search of his prostate.

And once he does graze over that sweet spot, all of Makoto’s shabbily held together resolve finally comes crashing down, reducing him to a shuddering, jolting mess of needy moans and pleads of, “Sousuke, that’s enough - please - please, fuck - fuck me already - I need - I need your cock - I need it inside, I--”

Sousuke gives his own cock a few slow pumps as he stands and begins to maneuver Makoto further along the sheets to give himself more room, and all the begging that the brunet stooped down to earlier is replaced with silent neediness screaming in his eyes as he watches Sousuke position himself at his entrance. He hefts one of Makoto’s legs over his shoulder before slowly - god, painfully slowly - easing himself inside, garnering a pleased sigh of deep satisfaction from them both.

“Go ahead,” Makoto tells him through another groan as Sousuke begins to move. _As rough as you want, don’t bother holding back, please just fuck me._ He doesn’t voice the second part aloud and only hopes that Sousuke can infer that much from his lust-filled eyes, and Sousuke blinks at him curiously for just one moment before he gives Makoto what he wants.

Makoto is forced to resign himself to doing nothing more than letting out an unintelligible string of curses and Sousuke’s name and encouragement to go faster as his fingers dig into the muscle of Sousuke’s biceps. Through the fog of being pounded into raw along the unsteady and erratic rhythm of Sousuke’s moving hips, Makoto can just barely make out the words and sighs that Sousuke let’s out as well, and it only heightens his lust to hear him after being so used to Sousuke holding his voice back.

“Makoto, Makoto, fuck.” He adjusts himself so that he can lean down, their sweaty and sticky chests and stomachs flush against one another, so that he can murmur needily against the heated, flushed skin of Makoto’s neck. “Fuck, you’re so hot - so tight--”

“It feels so good, Sousuke,” the brunet manages to sigh out, and he guides Sousuke’s face so that their wet lips can meet sloppily, gasping and trying to breathe one another’s hot breaths and moans in amid their messy kiss. Makoto can taste faint traces of cake again, along with strawberry flavored lube he wasn’t aware Sousuke even had.

“Ah - fuck!” Makoto almost can’t stand it when Sousuke leaves his lips to resume sucking along the skin of his neck, getting closer and closer to his ear so that he can hear every fluctuation and every time Sousuke’s voice hitches with another stifled groan of ecstasy. Sousuke begins to nip along the brunet’s jaw, scraping and tugging at the skin, latching his lips over the skin again and sucking with the intent to leave bruises to admire in the morning.

Sousuke knows he’s getting too close, already toeing the edge of orgasm, so he pulls away from Makoto’s neck and sits up, again moving Makoto’s leg over his shoulder so that he has a better angle of ramming his cock into the gasping brunet. He reaches forward and wraps his hand around Makoto’s precum-weeping cock and pumps in time to his thrusting, and Makoto’s body arches off the mattress for the umteenth time that day as he cries out Sousuke’s name. Sousuke gasps out with him at the way Makoto clenches around him, and he finally loses it, his body doubling over Makoto’s as he spills hotly into him, his thrusts and stroking faltering for just a few seconds.

Makoto comes just moments later with a choked back moan at the feeling of being filled and he splatters all over his abdomen and chest as Sousuke’s thrusting begins to slow down. His mind is entirely clouded over with the aftermath of that intense bout of pleasure and just as he tries to blindly reach out to pull Sousuke closer to his spent body, he grasps at nothing but air where Sousuke was looming just moments before. He groans at the sudden emptiness and shivers at the feeling of cum dripping from his hole.

That’s when, with a shudder of utter mortification, he feels Sousuke’s tongue lick broadly up his stomach, lapping up at the mix of sugar and semen coating Makoto’s skin.

“What are you doing, Sousuke?” Makoto demands, trying his best to push him away with his exhaustion riddled arms.

“I’m still hungry,” is the only smug explanation Sousuke offers, and he licks shamelessly at the white smeared over his bottom lip before ducking his head to continue licking away at Makoto’s skin.

Makoto clenches his jaw, trying his best not to feel so turned on at the sight of his boyfriend eagerly cleaning up the cum from his body like it tastes worlds better than the cake, and sits up so that he can be the one to push Sousuke flat against the mattress.

It’s my turn, right?” he asks, albeit a little more timid than he would have liked, as he reaches down to press teasingly against Sousuke’s hole. He leans down and grins into a slow, tender kiss before he whispers, “Happy birthday, Sousuke.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> this week on i didnt kno i was kinda into that


End file.
